


Aversion Therapy

by Ael_tRlailiiu



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Pining, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ael_tRlailiiu/pseuds/Ael_tRlailiiu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pepper takes exception to Steve's wandering eyes. Contains spoilers for Iron Man 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aversion Therapy

You wouldn't think a super soldier would be affected by looks. He was, personally, the scientifically-determined pinnacle of what _homo sapiens_ could be. But it wasn't just looks, Steve told himself. He had known a lot of nice-looking people, and most of them hadn't moved his interest one whit. It was _attitude_.

Steve had grown used to his new shape but hadn't grown into it, still got startled by his reflection in the dark. Tony Stark, meanwhile, inhabited his body with the ease and self-assurance of a cat. Sex appeal came to him like breathing. It didn't hurt that everything he wore was professionally fitted. Standing in the lab doorway, Steve had never wanted to be a pair of blue jeans before. He thought now that there would be definite benefits. Tony wasn't even doing anything provocative, just leaning hipslung against a table with his arms crossed, looking over Bruce's head at a screen of Extremis data.

It was still a nice view.

“Model says seventy-three percent,” Banner said.

“Nowhere near good enough. Also? I told you so.”

“I'll write down that one time you humored me. I'm starting to think we're looking at this wrong. What happens if we flip the problem?”

Tony thought for two seconds. “What, don't take it out, make it better?”

Steve hadn't meant to stay there. It was just that if there was anything sexier than Tony hot on the trail of a problem (the way his hands moved, how his whole body filled with excitement the closer he got to the answer, that grin—dear God, _that grin_ ) it should probably be declared illegal. Pepper might not be the only Tower resident in danger of spontaneous combustion.

He jumped about a foot when, hard on the heels of the thought, her voice behind him said, “Excuse me, Captain Rogers.”

He moved aside and watched her cross the room, couldn't hear what she said to Tony but saw his half-smile in response as he pulled her in close.

Bruce pushed his chair back to give the two of them room and looked over at Steve. “You don't need to hover. We're still at the math stage, nothing's going to get broken if you interrupt.”

“This time tomorrow, though, I think we will be a little less theoretical. Finally.” Tony stroked the display into a more pleasing configuration with his free hand. “This looks good.”

Steve coughed. “Great. Thanks. Uh, I was just... going out for a run? Thought I'd see if you need anything while I'm out?” There, that was almost sensible.

“It's snowing.” Tony didn't look at the window. He was coping with being in New York, because Steve suspected he would do anything including cold-blooded murder if it would help Pepper, and maybe the meds were helping. But he didn't go out much.

“Yep. Well—see you.” Steve made his escape into the blessedly cold outside air and promised to keep his eyes to himself from then on. That should have been easy. Steve had a whole floor to himself, after all. He just kept finding reasons to leave it over the next week, and his eyes kept running away from his self-control.

Tony appeared oblivious; he had a zillion things on his mind, and none of them were Steve. Unfortunately, this led to him wandering the Tower at weird hours of the night wearing low-slung sweatpants, a sleeveless shirt, and a distracted expression. He would give Steve a bleary nod and then go off to whatever new research avenue had called him out of sleep. Maybe Steve stayed up a little later than he used to, and maybe he got a little too used to having a private view.

“Looking for something, Captain?” Pepper paused as her path crossed his in the hallway. Her glance followed his—call a spade a spade, he was staring—in the direction of Tony's saunter, and then she looked Steve direct in the eyes.

“Ah... no?” A treacherous stain crawled up his neck.

“Good.” She smiled.

No convenient holes opened up in the floor, so he smiled back and made one of those “somewhere else to be” gestures and moved on.

She said, “You were going that way, I think.”

“Yeah, I... forgot something.” The back of his neck felt hot as he walked away.

Communal dinners were the rule for whoever was in residence. That meant Bruce, his expression quiet and intense at first, growing resigned as the weeks went on and it became clear that the solution they were working on was unlikely to work on his already-altered biology. Sometimes Natasha or Clint was there. Rhodey passed through on weekends. It would be awkward if Steve bowed out, right? He didn't want his friends to think he was avoiding them, and he really did enjoy their company. He did a lot of looking at his plate, though. After dinner, Tony and Pepper would go upstairs with their hands tucked into each other's back pocket like high schoolers.

Steve tried not to think about that. He took refuge in the main gym more often—Tony never used it, since there was another one in the penthouse. Steve was surprised, therefore, to find Pepper and Natasha there one afternoon. The women circled each other in the ring, practicing basic hand to hand techniques. He watched for a second—their hair different shades of red, very different builds, their similar intensity.

“Finesse.” Natasha tagged Pepper with a kick to her midsection.

“Sorry.” Pepper hung back a moment, then launched herself at Natasha again and almost connected.

“Better.”

“I took apart a steel filing cabinet yesterday. At the office. No one could find the key, and I just... got annoyed.”

“Did anyone comment?” Natasha swept and pinned her in a single tidy motion.

Pepper snaked loose and rolled to her feet. “Good God, no. The ones that know are terrified.”

Natasha's lips curved as she circled. “I'm not.”

Steve had read some reports and overheard a lot of the discussions about Extremis, but that led his thoughts in directions he wasn't supposed to encourage. He went on to his own planned workout. Fifteen miles should clear his mind. He settled into a meditative state and burned up the first few miles without paying any more notice to the other two.

His attention was caught when Natasha said, “Steve? We could use a taller attacker here if you've got a minute.”

Steve slowed the machine down and shrugged. “Yeah, sure.” He walked over to the ring slowly, considering how best to do this. If she was seriously interested in training, it ought to be realistic. So he just walked up and grabbed her, with no warnings or preliminaries; he could have done it walking down the street.

His speed took her by surprise, as it did most everyone. She tried to set herself too late. Steve got hold of her arm and pulled it around into a standard hold. He expected Natasha to stop him there, and maybe have them do it again. Instead, searing heat forced his hand to open. Pepper turned around him and landed a punch on his kidney.

It _hurt_. For an inelegant moment Steve just stared at her. Pepper was thin to the point of fragility, looked like she maybe did some light yoga and that was it. Those reports suddenly took on new relevance. He thought there might be blisters on his palm.

Pepper stared back from six inches away. “Having trouble with your eyesight, Captain?”

He didn't dare look at Natasha. She was absolutely laughing silently. Had he been set up? Steve didn't read the business news, since too much of it angered him, and he had never really thought about what kind of person it took to be a match for Tony.

“Not at all,” he said, stepped back and whipped Pepper's legs out from her under her. She hadn't been ready, and she hit the floor hard. The next thing he knew, he was doing the same, and his knee felt like it was on fire.

He was in trouble. They squared off. Pepper held up a clenched hand. Color shifted under her skin, a dragon-coil of golden light. Steve ducked aside from her punch, risked a hold on her arm to throw her. She landed better this time and came back faster than he expected. He felt the heat of the near-miss that turned out to be a feint.

Correction: he was in a _lot_ of trouble.

On one hand, Natasha was right; Pepper lacked finesse. Steve had never been accused of an oversupply of that himself. More pertinent was that she didn't get tired, and that the bruises and strains that told on even a super-soldier eventually vanished from her almost as soon as they appeared.

He wasn't going all-out, of course, and thank God neither was she. That didn't help. He couldn't keep a hold without giving himself third-degree burns. Hitting her was risky and only ever gained him a moment's reprieve. She didn't often manage hit him back—but if this had been for real, she would only need to do it once.

Thus did Captain America find himself both bruised and singed in any number of places and finally pinned by a woman less than half his weight. Burned matting crackled underneath him. Pepper's arm against his throat felt uncomfortably warm. Her knee nudged his groin.

Natasha rang the bell.

Pepper jumped off and let him get up. Her eyebrows went up slightly in question.

Steve got to his feet and nodded. _Receiving you loud and clear, ma'am._

“That was... interesting,” he said, and caught the much-needed bottle of water Natasha tossed over. “I take it you've changed your mind about keeping the Extremis.”

Pepper smiled. “No. I don't _need_ it.”

Steve nodded again. He kept his eyes to himself from then on. Two weeks later, Clint introduced him to a nice new SHIELD agent.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have all the love in the world for Pepper Potts and all of her varieties of bad-assery. This was written quickly after reading a few too many break-up fics, and any errors in it are entirely my own. 
> 
> I don't condone this kind of behavior in real life. :) Also, I don't dislike Steve and don't for a moment think he would really behave this way, hence the crack tag. But if he did....


End file.
